


Fuck the bet

by ChocoNut



Series: Modern JB love [43]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Porn with Feelings, Reassuring Jaime, insecure Brienne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:55:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26048392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: It all begins after Brienne overhears some guys at work betting as to who would succeed in fucking her first.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Modern JB love [43]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557871
Comments: 16
Kudos: 106





	Fuck the bet

_Who the hell would want a girlfriend like her?_

Gulping down the insult and hoping it never surfaced again, Brienne dragged herself back to the numbers on her spreadsheet.

_Like you, I, too, just wanna fuck her._

Shoving aside the unpleasantness, she tried to switch focus to what she had on hand, but the formulae had now begun to look like a foreign language, and the numbers far beyond her comprehension.

_Let’s have a bet then. The first one to get into her pants wins a hundred silver dragons—_

“No,” she barked, snapping her laptop shut. “All you fucking men are—”

“Hey!” Jaime pushed the door slightly open and peeped in. “Ready to leave?”

“You go ahead,” she brusquely dismissed him, wanting to keep to herself for the rest of the night. “I’m working late.”

He entered, brows creased in disapproval. “Look at the time. It’s already late. You can’t keep going on like a machine.” He came closer to take a good long look at her tired eyes. “You look weary and—” the frown deepened “—is something wrong, wench?”

“Nothing.” She shot to her feet and started stuffing her laptop and its accessories into the bag, his arrival and the complexity of her unrequited feelings for him adding to her distress. “Just leave me alone, okay?”

“I’m going nowhere unless you tell me.” He came around to her side of the desk. “And trust me, I can stay here all night if you decide to act all stubborn and wenchy.”

“I don't want to talk about it,” she spat, losing her composure at his proximity. “You think I'm ugly, too. Like them—”

“Them?”

“Hyle and Ron and Tormund,” she lashed out, her lips beginning to twitch in rage. “The big woman, Tormund was referring to me as. And Ron—he pronounced me the ugliest woman in the world and Hyle—”

“—proposed an indecent bet, challenging the remaining two as to which of them would be successful in having a go at you,” Jaime finished, his handsome features overcast. “That’s what’s bothering you.”

“Of course it’s bothering me.” Her voice shot up by several decibels. “And you—” she accused, directing her anger at him and her frustration that he was too pretty for her. “Even though you don’t approve of their disgusting bet, you’ve insulted me loads of times.”

He came closer. “That was in the past—”

“If I weren’t your friend you wouldn’t look twice at me.” _And you wouldn’t think of me as any more than that._

“Opinions do change, Brienne.” He narrowed the gap between them further. “People get wiser and regret their mistakes. I—”

“You just don’t say it out aloud these days—”

“—because I don’t think you’re ugly,” he said quietly. “I think—”

“And I think you’re just saying this to soothe my rage.” She wasn’t going to fall for this sugar-coating anymore. “A man like you would never want me, would never—”

“Says who?” 

Something in his tone and the way he was looking at her made her stand by and think, telling her she’d ventured into something else. The scent of his cologne and his mere presence around her getting to her head, she swallowed, but unblinking, continued to battle the intensity of his gaze. “While you might, in some rare drunken state or something, be tempted to fuck me—”

He made a sudden move, and she was in his arms. “Jaime, what—”

“I’m not drunk—” he nudged his face to hers “and I do— _very much_ —want to fuck you right now, wench—” His fingers tickled up her arm before coming to rest on her collarbone, the way he paused between words, the honeyed note of seduction in his voice, the measured pace of his touch sending a spray of sparks down her body. “I want to make love to you here, Brienne, against this table,” he admitted, hungry green eyes taking her in like she was a delicious snack. “And it’s not just _fucking you_ that I want.”

“What—” _do you want,_ she wanted to ask, but her tongue seemed to have gone on a holiday when his palm slid over her breast. “Jaime—” 

His hand snaked into her hair and grabbing a fistful, he pulled her head back and swooped in, covering her mouth in an unreasonably hot kiss. Her stomach jolted out of position. Her sensations began dancing, and she went in, gladly accepting, going a step further to slip her tongue past his lips to find his. His tongue and a gasp to go with it, she was rewarded with, leading to the beginning of the wildest, most passionate moment in her life. No one had ever held her like this, let alone kiss her like she was the most desirable thing in the world. 

They paused, and she could see his eyes crackling with desire, his chest heaving and falling in heavy breaths, a pleasantly growing bulge tenting his trousers. “Tormund and Hyle and Ron—” he panted “—none of them matter. Fuck them, fuck the bet. I’m not them, Brienne. I don’t want to be just inside you. I want _you._ ” He lowered his voice to a sexy rumble. “Nothing else matters.”

Enclosing her in the sensuous prison of his embrace, he started kissing her again, touching her everywhere he could reach, hands roving and roaming. She wanted more, every part of her, right from her swollen lips to her pert nipples, hard and straining to meet his touch from within the confines of her bra. Her pussy needed him the most, throbbing and aching, waiting. Acutely aware of the hot wetness pooling between her legs, she longed for his touch, all over her body, but especially down between her legs. Now that they’d begun, she could see no other end to it. He had drawn her in and there was no way out, no other remedy to the madness of thoughts and a sensation inside her body that seemed to burn her alive with pleasure.

Sensing her need, he reached down to lightly squeeze her breasts, raking his nails over the nipples, nipping and tweaking them between finger and thumb as their kissing became more frantic and breathing laboured. 

“And I want you,” she gasped, when they pulled back. “Fuck me, Jaime.”

Thank the gods for the deserted floor, and thank the gods that the cameras were off. And she thanked them the most for the thirsty glint in his eyes when he leaned in to kiss her again. 

Kissing required attention. And so did undressing. While tongues and lips and teeth went berserk, hands, clumsy and fumbling, took to doing their best given their horny desperation. And after what felt like an eternity of clanging of belt buckles and whooshing of zippers and an almost never-ending battle with the incredibly complex mechanisms of buttons and button-holes, they were finally clothes free, her breasts in his custody, her fingers wrapped around his cock, her cunt, a sorry state of affairs, crying out for his attention.

But first things first.

Brienne dropped to her knees and took him in her mouth. Fuck, he tasted so good! She sucked and pulled, bobbing up and down, pumping and twisting, stroking his ample girth as she went, the lush thickness in her grip, the feeling of him swelling in his mouth and the beginning of a night memorable, making her want him even more.

She glanced up at him—his pupils darkening, the way he bit his teeth—such undiluted pleasure! No man had ever wanted her this much before. It was hot. It was dirty. 

And it was sweet. 

He groaned with delight, plunging into her as she kept going, moving in and away, and when he grabbed her shoulders in a vice-like grip, his muscles straining under the thrusts, she let him out with a pop and pressed a kiss to his balls. “I need you to save it for me, Jaime.”

“So do I.” He dragged her out of him and to her feet. “My turn to go down on you, wench.” Seizing her mouth into a quick kiss, he turned her around and pushed her face down on the table, her ass bent over the edge. Tenderness and a wild urgency, she could see both coming. And she needed both.

He was on his knees now, his face buried in her ass, his tongue finding her clit, rimming her teasingly before he moved down to her pussy. “Fuck,” she swore, groping for the edge, soaked and burning. His lips caressed her pussy lips, massaging her. His tongue darted in and out of her in a firm flicking motion. Walking the tightrope between agony and ecstasy, she jerked her hips into his face, urging him to go deeper. He licked her up and down, sucked and ravished her, tongue and lips and deft fingers, building a delicious tension in her cunt.

Her body was on fire and she began to tremble and shake, and when he hit her with the next punishing swipe of his tongue, she collapsed onto the table, a limp mess as the world around dissolved into a blur.

“Your cock,” she weakly moaned, lips pressing into the cold wood. She needed more, wanted to come around him. She needed that cock to penetrate her, to fuck the sensibility out of her.

And Jaime didn’t seem to want anything different when he got up to kiss her, his taste mingling with hers—the most erotic thing to have touched her lips. 

Her wait was over as he hovered around, teasing and nudging, testing the waters before sliding into her wetness. With a sound she never thought herself capable of producing, she took his full length and clenched him tight, squeezing him and building her own pleasure around him. He started pumping and grinding. And Brienne went along, unable to decide what was bringing her on—his massive thrusts or the feeling of his muscles ramming into her butt.

“Like that,” she egged him on, cocking her ass into him, urging him to go as deep as he could. 

His hunger matching hers, his balls slapped against her, multiplying the pleasure, blinding her. “Fuck,” she breathed, letting her hand drop down to her clit.

He fucked her, and she rubbed herself, the joint spell of penetration and stimulation driving her up the hill. He took his hands off her butt and held her in an intimate embrace, binding himself to her, his pleasure, driven by hers. He clumsily grabbed at her breasts, squeezing them, flattening her nipple with his thumb, the pinch, then the release, sending another gush of liquid desire spreading around his length.

His cock ran deep… so deep. Every stroke jolted her, brought her senses to a high point of near-explosion. Every sensation felt amplified, every glide, every dip, every thrust, every pulse. Her sex-life in near-hibernation for a while, mind-blowing excitement and exhilaration—these were two sexual sensations she’d thought existed only in theory. 

But here… Now… With Jaime...

Spreading her open, he shifted, hitting her from a different angle, getting in, getting to—

“ _Yes,_ ” she whimpered, when he locked her down to all but himself, of what he was doing to her.

Firm and intense, he was, and she blurted his name in a loud grunt of passion. She didn’t care that they were in the office building. She couldn’t hold back. She sighed and squealed, whimpered, struggling to breathe. She rose to the brink, almost there, but just when she was about to blow apart, he pulled out.

“I want to look into your eyes, Brienne.” He sank into her chair and pulled her towards him. “Such pretty eyes,” he gushed, in between broken breaths, caressing her knuckles when she hovered over his lap, legs astride his crotch, the gleaming tip of his cock just shy of her entrance.

“Oh, wench,” he murmured, when she lowered herself down onto him. 

With a sigh, she took him all in.

Pangs of unabashed sensuality engulfed her. Surges and surges of delight washed over her as she bobbed up and down his thick hard shaft. She had transcended to a different plane of ecstasy. She was floating somewhere high up, out of this realm, far away from this universe. 

As for him...

If bliss had a face, it would be Jaime’s.

His hands cupping her ass, he guided her further and further, deeper. There was no holding back. Unmitigated cries of heated desire echoed through the walls of the cubicle, the sounds amplified, their collective pleasure soaring through the roof.

If lust had a voice, it would be theirs right now—his grunts and her moans, his growls and her whimpers, the frantic whispers of their breathing—ragged and laboured and joined in a chorus as one. 

She bent to kiss his mouth, then trailing down, she left a lingering bite on his collarbone that coaxed a sharp breath out of him and a fervent need to grope her jiggling breasts. He pushed up into her, and she could feel him growing harder between her legs. She sank into him as he tweaked her nipples, the desperation for contact of every part of her with him, gripping her, that wild need for friction, ripping her apart.

She jerked and thrashed around him, pressing her waist against his, needing him as close as possible, no space, not even a sliver of air between them. His mouth sought an erect nipple, and she sighed deeply, the wetness of his tongue making its way down her neckline with the gentle licking and sucking of her breast, driving her wild. She caressed him and he laced her with gentle strokes. Their hands roamed each other’s bodies whilst he dragged his mouth to hers, imprisoning her in another fierce kiss, passionate and deep, sensual and urgent.

Her tender breasts and his chest hair.

His thumb and her clit.

His cock and her sodden pussy.

His mouth and hers.

She needed this. All of this—everything connected, mind, body and soul.

It was a dance. She moved forward, and he took a step, too. She kissed him, and he kissed her harder. She dragged her fingers down his sweat-soaked chest, and he let his run amok all over her breasts. They battled and they gave in, both, throbbing with the same desire, both, wanting to take control, yet, dying to submit.

He pressed his face into her chest, and she slowed down. She wanted to soak in every inch of him, to remember this moment forever, every twitch, every flicker of those eyelids, the way he tossed his head back in pleasure. She could make out he was close, and to know that _she_ was the reason for it, was a different sort of feeling, altogether.

“Take me with you,” he breathed into her breasts, and she quickened her pace, her legs maintaining a rhythm as she bounced up and down on his balls, riding him like she’d gone crazy. She could get used to the sensation of his cock being brought to her entrance only to slam back down on it. 

He felt so fucking deep inside, almost as if he was a part of her.

Moans and curses of pleasure, two desperate bodies writhing and slamming together—she’d had sex before, but _this,_ it never was.

She felt him shudder under her spasms— it was coming—her peak, the climax only her vibrator had been able to satisfy her with for years. Her clit quivering violently under his thumb, she felt herself squeezing him tight, squelching around him.

“Oh fuck, Jaime,” she breathed, grabbing his shoulders. A couple of thrusts, and she tipped over the edge, an intense orgasm tearing through her—cunt and limbs and all through the rest of her body. Her head was giddy, her breasts tingling and red from the numerous bites and scratches he’d left on them, her legs, trembling and shaky. The rush was so colossal, that it shattered her to bits, and she spasmed, then let go, the sensation of drowning his cock in the aftermath of what he had done to her, a feeling unparalleled.

“Am—right—behind—you,” he grunted an instant later, face flushed, every word a laboured attempt. 

He gripped her hips with such force that she feared the chair might cave in under the ferocity of their reckless moves. She could feel him sink deeper, drawn towards his end as her body absorbed his convulsions. Eyes never leaving hers, he dissolved into uninhibited cries of her name, ripples of his release spreading out to every inch of her.

Her body folded into his, and they sat there, wrapped as one, their breathing slowing down as the waves slowly subsided. The world had shrunk into this little bubble where no one, but them, and nothing but their sensations existed. The clouds in her head began to gradually part as she regained cognisance again, although parts of her still were buzzing with her orgasm. Jaime threaded his fingers in hers, holding her to his chest as they closed their eyes and lived every bit of a truly out of the world moment.

After they had recovered their breath, green eyes met hers with a lot more than just a fond acknowledgement for what had passed between them. “That wasn’t just fucking. It was—” he left a breezy kiss on her lips “—unlike anything I’ve experienced before, Brienne.”

Brienne nodded, kissing him back. “We need to do this again.”

“Every night,” he proposed, lips curving in a cocky grin, “but for that, you first need to be my girlfriend.”

Wriggling closer, she swirled a finger around his damp chest hair. “And for that, you first need to ask me out.”

His face lit up with his boyish charm as he drew her in for another kiss. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do for the past few minutes?”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading and all your wonderful support!


End file.
